


Stamina

by joeyrz



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-16
Updated: 2010-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joeyrz/pseuds/joeyrz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Casey has stamina. Chuck really doesn’t get that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stamina

**Author's Note:**

> Slight spoilers for the end scene of 3.01 “Chuck vs The Pink Slip”. This came about from a plot bunny that hopped it’s way to me during the 3.03 discussion here (3.03 spoilers abound there). So lots of props to standardtrip, prlrocks, inanna1130 & ladyofpride who totally prodded me into making sure this bunny was properly cared for. I did the best I could guys, specially since this is just the second fic I’ve written in 6 months.

Two hours later, Chuck is sprawled out on the dojo’s floor, his sweaty hair plastered to his face. His t-shirt is now almost fully dark grey from all his perspiration, the only parts still dry are at the very edges, where it fell over his gym pants. He was breathing hard, arms thrown up, his gloved hands resting close to his face. The bright yellow of the gloves make the red stain over the right hand’s knuckles pop out more.

Casey was bent down, his own gloved hands resting on his knees as he tried to regulate his breathing. The intersect had all the skills of hundreds of professional boxers in it, all the techniques, strategies, steps, angles. It included the knowledge of the human body, and where punches had the most impact, did the most damage. Both Casey and Chuck knew that, if Chuck had allowed it, the Intersect could have killed Casey during their training session. It had the knowledge.

But Chuck had neither a reason, or the need, or the will to do it. So he held back, didn’t throw punches when Casey was open, pulled some that did connect so Casey wouldn’t be hurt. The Intersect wanted to control his body and direct his movements and Chuck fought for control.

But Casey’s knowledge was his own, not borrowed and downloaded from a computer. It was born of hard work, training and years of experience. Casey doesn’t fight his body, his body fights for him. And he may not have all the strategies and techniques, but he has intuition and full control of his body. It was a challenging fight, but in the end Chuck lacked the stamina. After raising his hand in defeat, barely registering Casey’s blood on his glove from where one of Chuck’s punches had split his lip, Chuck collapsed on the floor, where he was now still trying to gulp in air.

Casey straightened up, taking one last deep breath and as his heart rate dropped almost back to normal. He pulled his gloves off, threw them aside and picked up a towel to wipe his face. He grimaced in distaste as his shirt stuck to him. He stepped up to Chuck, laughing slightly evilly as he threw a towel in Chuck’s face.

“How can you move?” Chuck whined from the floor, not bothering to take the towel off his face. “I’m half your age and I can’t move a muscle! How can you still move?”

Casey let out an amused snort (#28, Chuck notices) as he raised his arms up and away from his body, stretching them out, before bending the right one behind his head, using his left to push at his elbow, muscles flexing as he stretched them.

Chuck moved his head just enough for the towel to fall off, then looked up at Casey, admiring the play of muscles that could be seen through the clingy t-shirt. He swallowed loudly and remembered that he had asked Casey a question. “Well?”

Casey let out #28 again. “I haven’t spent the better part of my life in front of the tv or the computer. I’ve actually taken care of my body. So it’s nothing to do with age. I just have more stamina than you. I could do this all night long.”

“Yeah, right!”

Casey growled (ooh, boy! That was #3!) and grabbed a water with more force and aggression than necessary, twisted open the cap and took a long swig. The rest he dumped over Chuck, making the younger man shout as he shot upright and got up off the floor.

“Stretch or your muscles will seize up,” Casey instructed in a military bark, as he left Chuck alone in the dojo. As he reached the doors, he remarked casually, not even looking back: “Oh, and I’ll prove to you just what it means to go all – night – long.”

Chuck froze in mid stretch, his mind assaulting with images. “Wait, what?!” he squeaked, running after Casey for clarification.

\^_^/

Much, much later…

Casey stepped out of his bathroom, a cloud of steam following him out. He was drying his hair with a towel, another hung low on his hips. He paused, just a couple of steps into his bedroom, and leaned back as he tossed the towel back into the bathroom, a small grin of victory on his face as it landed perfectly inside the laundry hamper.

He turned back to look at his bed and its occupant.

Chuck was sprawled face down on his bed, one hand hanging over the edge, dragging on the floor, legs spread out and hardly covered under a thin sheet that was almost – just almost – concealing his perfectly rounded (‘perfectly squeezable’, Casey remembered ) ass cheeks.

“So,” Casey said, in his best Colonel voice. “Ready for round… what was it, I lost count.”

One of Chuck’s hands waved tiredly, his fingers moving as if counting but not really settling on one number.

“No, no. I’m sure it’s more than 5. But hey, what does it matter? I said all night long. It’s only 3am. We have 3 more hours left of night. “

Chuck whimpered and buried his head in the pillow. Casey was going to kill him.

Casey pulled the sheet off him and turned him onto his back, straddling his hips as he took his towel off.

Looking up and admiring the blue eyes, wicked lips, chiseled jaw, defined pecs, strong arms and six pack abs of the incubus on top of him, Chuck couldn’t help but think of the time old cliché: ‘but what a way to go’.

END


End file.
